


Dear Death - Larry Stylinson

by IsaSophieRing



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Character Death, Depression, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaSophieRing/pseuds/IsaSophieRing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I guess I didn't want to see it...</p><p>or was I just blind the whole time?"</p><p>Harry is dead and Louis is standing by the edge, contemplating his importance. </p><p>WARNING: SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND REASONINGS THAT MAY BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME, IF THEY ARE, I AM VERY SORRY! XO ISA</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Death - Larry Stylinson

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND REASONINGS THAT MAY BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME, IF THEY ARE, I AM VERY SORRY! XO ISA

I guess I didn't want to see it...

or was I just blind the whole time?

You’d never been good at hiding anything, but you’d still managed to hide this? Your heavy breathing, becoming louder and louder by the day. You blamed it on the heat, but I should have known. You were getting skinnier, ribs, spine, cheekbones everything was poking and prodding at your skin, that had once been kissed by the sun, but was now paler than snow. The light in your eyes was getting weaker and weaker as time went by, I don’t understand how it turned out this way. We were supposed to make it, after everything we’ve been through, what our love have been through. I would have never thought this could happen. Something that had once grown from a collision in a bathroom with walls of blue tiles, where hasty greetings and fleeting gazes had grown into chased kisses between breaks from stage, and late night screams into the night as we made love until dawn, but in the end, our final battle wouldn't be against men, dressed in suits and permanent frowns. It was death in it’s ironic glory. 

\- Lou?

Your eyes were open, turned towards me, but it was as if you were seeing through me. I took a tighter hold of your hand, letting my other comb through your curls, curls that were now dull and had lost all its former luster. They were now only tufts of brown hair, hanging like dead leaves, ready to be cut off. 

\- What is it Hazza?

\- Wh- when I- ‘m go-

\- Please don’t.

\- J- ust. Listen to me.

I couldn't refuse him, never have.

\- Alright.

\- L-ou. I- I wa-nt you to, prom-ise me.

\- Hazz-

\- Please.

He sounded torn, desperate, painful. His lungs were filled with water and blood, which his heart eagerly kept on pumping them full with. He could barely talk, this was the most he'd said in a week. 

\- Fine.

Why did I agree? 

I have never regretted anything this much in my entire life. How did you think I could keep your promise? You knew just as well as I still do, we were not just a couple, not just soul mates. We were so close to become what we'd always wished. We would become one, husbands. Our love was supposed to give us the most precious thing of all, life. We were supposed to become dad’s. The one thing that I'd always been dreaming of, the both of us had. We were supposed to cradle them in our arms, walk them to school until they’d find it embarrassing, cry when they'd come home with their first A’s, overprotective when they'd found someone they “loved”, cry some more when we'd realise that they were as old as we were when we met, we'd cry even more as they would leave the nest to seek out new adventures, exploring the world. We'd settle down somewhere quiet and sit on some old porch in some old couple of rocking chairs, holding hands and calling each other by Harrold and Lewis, until we'd fall asleep to never wake up again. 

That was supposed to be us. 

Where did it all go so terribly wrong?

\- Be happy.

That promise is the only thing I will ever deny you with. I had been filled with childish hopes that you’d survive, but you didn’t. So I was left all alone, barely eating, sleeping, breathing, existing. 

They say suicide is selfish since it hurts those around you.

But isn't it more selfish of them not wanting to be hurt?

At whose cost?

Yours.

So I'll pull a Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, Pyramus and Thisbe.

Liebestod.

“love death”.

By: IsaSophieRing


End file.
